


House Built Out Of Stone

by Streetlamp_Sunset



Series: Diamonds and Crows [3]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Canon Compliant, David Rose is a Good Person, David Rose is good with kids, Families of Choice, Found Family, Gen, Next-Gen, Post-Canon, Rose Apothecary (Schitt's Creek), Theodore "Ted" Mullens/Alexis Rose (mentioned) - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 16:01:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29316759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Streetlamp_Sunset/pseuds/Streetlamp_Sunset
Summary: "And what would you like to do?"Lark tipped her head back, gaze roving over the watery glow of color thrown from the stained glass. "Dad was supposed to be mayor, you know. Doesn’t seem like such a bad gig, eventually.""Patrick would be thrilled if you sat in on council meetings," David offered. He batted her hands apart as she moved to pick at her cuticles...David gets a lot better at life coaching snippy teens over the years.
Relationships: David Rose (Schitt's Creek) & Original Character(s), Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Series: Diamonds and Crows [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2073393
Comments: 4
Kudos: 41





	House Built Out Of Stone

Larkin couldn't picture David Rose as a celebrity. Even a minor one, which Alexis had been very clear about. David, in his thick glasses and fuzzy old man cardigans. His easy laughter and soft crows feet.

David didn't talk much about his past before the Roses lost their money, but Lark had always gotten the impression he'd grown up in Schitt's Creek, if in practice and not in name.

He had the same stories everyone around here did. The same stakes in this town.

A tiny scar marred the bone of his ankle from the day he'd learned to ride a bike in the parking lot of the Motel. He'd guzzled his first funnel of beer in the field behind the lumberyard.

Their whole family, if a cobbled collection of one, had spent the Sunday nights of Lark's childhood in the Brewer Rose's stone cottage. Dinner, more often than not, stretched into game nights long after the sun went down, Lark carried up to the spare room when she began to nod off. She was bundled into the lower bed of the trundle with Fish, Theia sneaking in a few hours later to sprawl out on the mattress above. 

Idyllic as it'd been, she had to grow up sometime and graduation loomed like the great dam at the edge of the creek. Larkin tucked a stray flower from Moira's garden in her back pocket, fingers skimming over sun-warm bricks.

There was a vaguely familiar woman behind the counter of the Apothecary. Mandy. David had a very short list of _youths_ he'd allowed behind the counter for any extended period of time. Mandy was the only one outside the family who'd stuck around, but she usually worked her shifts in Elmdale.

"Welcome to Rose Apothecary. Can I help you find any- hey,” she chirped and Larkin grimaced at the energy behind the question, “you're RJ’s sister, yeah?”

Lark shrugged, drifting straighten the rows of candles lining the front table, “something like that."

"Oh, well, is there anything I can help you with?"

"Where’s David?” Unfortunately, her clipped question did nothing to temper Mandy's cheer.

"Oh, he's in back-"

"Thanks."

Schitt's Creek wasn't the kind of place anyone moved, at least not on purpose. If you were born in Schitt's Creek, you lived there, and died there too. And sometimes, Schitt's Creek was the kind of place folks left and never looked back. 

Fish was too young, but Lark remembered their mama leaving.

Dad hadn't said a word on the ride over, since the barn door clicked closed really, and Lark had silently steeled her spine as he herded her onto the doorstep of the cottage.

David's expression had done something complicated and cloyingly sympathetic when he opened the door to find Mutt, Fish perched on his hip and a tool box in his free hand. 

"I need something I can fix," it was the voice Dad used when Fish had refused to wear anything but yellow for a month, when Lark spilled a bucket of frogs and creek bed across the living room rug. 

Behind David, Patrick had crouched down and held out his hand, "come on, kiddo."

Lark was too big to be held, but he’d carried her down the hall and up the stairs anyhow, where Theia sat cross legged on the landing. She’d shot Lark a wry smile as her own father stood to join the grown ups mood boarding in the kitchen.

"I've got her, Uncle Patrick." No one asked Theia if she was sure. 

RJ had showed up later, took Fish back to their grandparents, but Lark lingered. She lay awake every night, listening to Theia's soft snoring, the whir of saws and crack of the hammer. She’d watched the light beneath the door waver until it had gone fuzzy and her eyes refused to stay open.

When Mutt had finished, the Brewer Rose's new pantry was damn near an exact replica of the Pinterest boards clustered on the island.

Her father had hugged Ted Mullens for a long time. 

"You came back," Mutt said to Alexis over his shoulder. Lark had never been sure if it was meant to be a question or an accusation. 

"I know, bud," Ted answered and whatever bad blood had been left between them washed away. 

That week patched a lot of holes.

So Lark could've talked to Alexis, who'd told her about New York in the first place. Or Ted, who'd gone as far as the Galapagos to chase down his dreams before figuring out he belonged right where he'd started. But David, aside from one small incident involving grandpa's truck, hadn't left. 

She felt a sense of kinship with that, anyone who'd seen the world, then this place, and still didn't intend to go anywhere. Lark didn't need to see the world to know this was home.

David glanced up from his laptop, glasses slipping to rest against his cheeks. _Celebrity._ Lark rolled her eyes and dropped onto the squishy, worn couch, perpetually half covered with product.

"Larkin, hi."

"Has Fish-" she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose between her fingers, because that really wasn't what she was asking. "You stayed." 

David took pity on her, waited, though he'd always had more than enough words for any of them. 

Everyone told Lark she was like her father, calm and still as the lake that poured from the creek. The effort of having to say so much at once felt like dragging a stone from its depths on half a breath of air.

Fish. Fish was like their mother. No one ever said as much. But Lark could see it, the way their eyes lit up as they put the town sign behind them. 

"Fish says I could go someplace better." They always wanted to drive further, Ottawa, Montreal, The States. "For school. Grandma too." Jocelyn had mentioned, tactlessly and repeatedly, that Lark had the grades to get into any school she wanted.

But Lark had tuition saved up for Elmdale Community and Ronnie could use more help than she let on. The classes were flexible enough that Lark could be around where she was needed. 

David closed the lid of his laptop in her periphery, heaved a box of hand cream onto the floor to sit at her side.

"And what would you like to do?"

Lark tipped her head back, gaze roving over the watery glow of color thrown from the stained glass. "Dad was supposed to be mayor, you know. Doesn’t seem like such a bad gig, eventually."

"Patrick would be thrilled if you sat in on council meetings," David offered. He batted her hands apart as she moved to pick at her cuticles.

Larkin huffed out a laugh, "I'd like that." 

She lifted her head before she choked on the sincerity.

"Alexis mentioned something about you being a minor celebrity, you know, before." Baiting David was bound to be both distracting and deeply amusing.

"Mmm, did Alexis also happen to mention that at the time she had minor felony charges?" he shot back and Lark grinned, pulling a throw pillow into her lap.

"She did not." 

"It's how Alexis and Mutt met. They were both sentenced to community service-"

"Wait, David. Dad? For what?” But David was already spiraling off, Lark as good as a sounding board for his theatrics. 

Lark groaned and settled back against the arm of the couch. She could probably get the full story out of Ronnie later with a well timed cup of coffee.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you very, very much for reading!!  
> ❤️ Sunset


End file.
